Law and Order: SVU Episode: Via Terror
by Anulis
Summary: Detective Munch is conflicted when Nazi White Supremacists are suspected in a wave of rapeslayings involving Jewish women. But the reasons for these crimes come as a surprise to everyone.


In the criminal justice system, sexually based offenses are considered especially heinous. In New York City, the dedicated detectives who investigate these vicious felonies are members of an elite squad known as the Special Victims Unit.

These are their stories.

LAW & ORDER SPECIAL VICTIMS UNIT 

"What, are you out of breath already?"

"I just need a second…I'm gonna have a heart attack." The young, athletic woman ran in place next to her fat husband.

"You know Janey? From the health club? Her son's getting married; she invited us to the wedding, but it's the same weekend we're scheduled to go to the Cayman's for your business thing, so I thought what we could do is…Bob are you even listening to me?" Her husband was staring blankly into the trees beside the runner's sidewalk.

"Oh my god…get out your cell phone Barbara."

"Why what do you see?"

"Just get it out! Call the police!" He said as he walked into the trees.

"Hello, my name's Barbara James there's somebody in central park, north side that's hurt…an ambulance? I don't know. Bob! They want to know about an ambulance!" Bob looked over the woman who was tied to the tree. She was covered in blood, burns, and bruises, and tied above her head was a red flag bearing a thick, black swastika.

"Tell them don't bother, it's one of those women from the news… She's dead…"

0

"Over here!" A crime scene investigator called. "You guys the sex cops?"

"Detectives Stabler and Munch. Where is she?" Elliot asked.

"What a mess." Munch said, observing the burns on the woman's arms. "This one's worse than the first eight."

"First eight?" the investigator asked.

"What, you don't watch the news?"

"Not since JFK got shot."

"This is the ninth victim in a racially-motivated killing spree. She's the missing woman we've been looking for." Elliot said, filling him in.

"_Was_ the missing woman. Name's Rachel Zuckerman." Munch added. "She had four kids." Elliot glanced over at Munch meaningfully. The case was hard for him, the nature of it being so personally offensive to a Jewish man, but he had pleaded with the Captain to let him continue since he was practically an expert on the hate-groups that might be involved. Mrs. Zuckerman was tied haphazardly to the tree with her bare, burned feet dangling beneath her. This rape/murder had been conducted in the same manner as the eight in the sixteen days preceding it; the victim was kidnapped outside her home, raped, tortured, and then killed on the second day of her capture – as detective Tutuola had put it, Jewish women were dropping like flies all over the city.

"You should see this." The investigator said, handing Elliot and Munch a dirt-covered pamphlet.

" 'The Holocaust: One of the biggest fabrications in history.'" Elliot read aloud. "Where'd you find this?"

"Under the victim's feet. There's no information on it, but maybe if you find the people who made it…"

"Is there anything else here for us to see?" Elliot asked after carefully combing over the scene one last time.

"No, do you want me to check for fluids?"

"Don't bother. Dr. Warner will be here in ten." Elliot stared with disgust at the neo-Nazi standard hanging over the victim's head. "And get that damn flag down before the news crews get here."

0

"Did our perp leave us anything this time Doc?" Munch asked. He and Elliot were standing over the body of Rachel Zuckerman in the NYPD's crime lab. Dr. Warner smiled mischievously and handed him the clipboard.

"We weren't lucky enough to get any fluids, but I can say for sure this time, the victim wasn't raped or killed at the scene, the murder took place somewhere else."

"How do you know?" Elliot asked.

"For one thing, the blood wasn't pooled in one area of the body, meaning she was moved post-mortem. She was beaten to death with a metal rod, just like the others, but this time I found some interesting pebbles in the clothes on her back. They're made of poured cement, like in a garage or storehouse."

"What about the cuts and burns?" Munch asked.

"They were done while she was still alive." The doctor said darkly.

"So the perp tortures and rapes her, kills her, drags her body across the cement floor to transport it and strings her up in a tree." Elliot concluded.

"Perps. I found blood under her fingernails. There were two different types, neither of which matched the victim."

"Two killers." Munch said.

"But I thought there was only one semen sample?" Elliot asked.

"There is, she was probably only raped by one of the killers."

"Couldn't the others have used condoms?" Warner shook her head.

"No evidence of spermicide, and there was very little trauma to the heimen, a gang-rape would have done much more damage. And it's not just two killers-I count four."

"Four killers?" She waited to increase the suspense.

"Ok, how did you manage that one?" Elliot asked.

"I had some interns do a little dumpster diving around the crime scene. And this is what they found." Warner lifted an evidence bag containing a bloodstained beer bottle. "It has two different men's saliva on it, they didn't match the fingernail blood."

"I think I'm in love." Munch joked.

"Well, it's not my fault that your perps are complete amateurs."

"This is all great," Elliot said, sounding terribly reminiscent of the Captain. "But it would help if we had a suspect to match the DNA to."

"I may have that for you. Hey Elliot." Olivia had just walked into the lab.

"Liv! How was court?"

"Guilty on all counts. But I'll do you one better. This pamphlet was found at the scene of the second murder, and this one was at the ninth. There's a hate organization that distributes these all over the country."

"Where are they made?" Olivia smiled and handed him the car keys.

"Right here in River City."

0

"Detectives, my office!" Captain Cragen called as Elliot, Munch, and Olivia entered the precinct. When they walked up, they were met by Fin, the Captain, and none other than the Chief of Detectives.

"Gentlemen." He said.

"Have a seat Detectives." The Captain said, sitting down beside them; he had surrendered his desk to the Chief.

"First of all, Detective Munch-" The Chief began, "I would like to thank you personally for your effort in this case despite it's odious and sensitive nature, the dedication you've shown is worthy of commendation." Munch nodded in thanks.

"Gentlemen, I don't need to emphasize to you the severe criminal nature of this case, but I'm going to anyway so you're ready to address the news people waiting for us outside. The public is in a state of panic. Parents won't let their children walk to school unattended, people are leaving the city to stay with family elsewhere, Jewish women are afraid to open their front doors, and eight people are dead because they were born Jews." The Chief paused to let this sink in. "I came here to let you know I am not going to yank this to Major Case as I originally said. In fact, I'm giving Captain Cragen emergency powers; all the resources of the NYPD are now at his disposal. There are four of them and 39,000 of us, let's end this."

0

"I distribute informational products to inform citizens, I can't be held responsible for what my buyers do with them." The man said sardonically.

"You nail anti-Semitic papers to synagogue doors and promote violence against the Black and Jewish population." Elliot retorted. The man was Richard Callahan, leader of the Aryan Nation Society. Much to Elliot's frustration, all of his alibis checked out. The three stopped at a glass case full of similar pamphlets to those at the crime scene.

"You said 'buyers'." Olivia said, trying to redirect the conversation. "You keep records of the groups you sell to?"

"Yes, why?"

"We'll need to see them." Elliot said.

"Our business records are confidential. The police have no-"

"We're investigating the rape and murders of eight innocent women that were killed because of their religion. That makes it a hate-crime Mr. Callahan, and two of _your_ pamphlets were found at the scene. How many seconds do you think it'll take for us to get a search warrant?" He interrupted. Callahan considered this for a moment and finally gave in.

"We send out the informational packets to eight different groups. I'll have my secretary fax you the information."

"Thank you for your cooperation."

"Or I could hand you your suspects." He said. Callahan was starting to look desperate in his attempt to protect his clients. Olivia raised her eyebrows.

"Okay, we're listening."

"Many of the groups we ship to are like us, non-violent protestors." Elliot coughed at this comment, "But there is a skin-head gang that's been taking credit for those three women. I can give you their names if you'll agree not to harass my other customers." Elliot and Olivia exchanged hopeful looks.

"Okay, we're game. It's a deal."

0

"I didn't do nothing to no kike bitches."

"Watch your mouth." Fin said, raising his voice to the bald, tattooed man as he slammed him down in an interrogation room's metal chair.

"That's not what you told the other bottom-feeders." Munch said, the insult bouncing off him. "We hear you and your buddies killed those women." The man looked Munch up and down with a foul expression and turned away. Fin grabbed the back of his head and pushed it back forward.

"He asked you a question! And since you're the primary suspect in a murder investigation, you might want to speak up."

"Man I didn't kill those-" He thought better of repeating his insult, "We didn't kill anybody. We were just saying it to score points with this guy."

"What guy?" Elliot was asking in the other interrogation room.

"This guy we met at a bar for other skinheads. He was a scary dude. At first, he said that was how it should be done. That we should go after the women, cuz it's them that make more Jews to dirty up the population."

"That's when we took credit for the murders. He just laughed. He said we were liars and he knew we didn't do it cuz he did." Munch and Fin's witness explained. "Then he went all crazy and started to break stuff and he left."

"This guy got a name?" Fin asked.

"Rick, Rick Sanders."

0

"What do you want me to do? He's got no case file!" Fin was shouting at Elliot.

"I want you to shut your damn mouth and keep looking!"

"You so much better at this then you look for him-"

"That is enough!" Captain Cragen yelled over them. Tensions were running high. It had been sixteen days since the first victim had been abducted, the pattern was discovered on day 3, and the four lead detectives of the Special Victim's Unit had barely slept for the 10 days they had had the case.

"Sit down. Now." The Captain said. Both did so, rubbing their eyes and sighing deeply. "Look, I know you're tired and frustrated, but some level of civility has to exist on this case so we can solve it and all our jobs won't go out the window." At this, he walked away, back to his office to spend another endless hour on the phone with the Chief, who required constant updates. Elliot stood up, rubbing his eyes again, to face Fin.

"Listen, I'm sorry about that-"

"Me too, forget about it." He replied. They shook hands and returned to their computers, too weary to continue the conversation. Munch, who had barely noticed the fight (and would not have had it not caused his headache to grow), sighed with relief as Olivia bent down to hand him a large mug of coffee.

"You're a goddess."

"You're welcome." She said with a weary smile. "Any luck?"

"None. This freak is completely off the map." Elliot slammed his own mug back down, spilling some of the precious energy-elixir.

"Damn. You know- I don't understand these hate groups." He said as he wiped up the mess. "If they really wanted to be heard, they'd do what Gandhi did so they could have a sympathy vote too."

"So what, Jews are only worth protecting because of the holocaust?" Munch asked.

"That's not what I meant." Elliot said awkwardly. "I just mean they preach about how bad minorities are but they're the murderers."

"Most hate groups are nothing but a place for somebody to belong, like any gang on the street." Fin put forth.

"Except this gang only caters to white trash." Olivia replied.

"Ma'am?" A uniform officer had just walked up looking thoroughly confused.

"What is it officer?" The officer looked over his shoulder at a man sitting on a bench waiting.

"I think he's here about the nine ladies that got killed, but he's speaking this bizarre language, maybe Yiddish, but I couldn't tell." Munch perked up slightly.

"Was it nasal or throaty?" The officer looked like he was getting a headache.

"Uh throaty-" Munch was off with his three partners at his heels. He sat down beside the man and spoke to him.

"It's Hebrew." Fin pointed out.

"People still speak Hebrew?" Elliot asked.

"It's Modern Hebrew, they speak it in Israel and some parts of Russia." Munch said. "He's an orthodox Rabbi-" He spoke to the Rabbi and translated. "He says yesterday afternoon his synagogue was broken into by four men. They had steel pipes."

"Our four perps." Elliot suggested. Then he addressed the Rabbi directly. "What'd they do?"

"Nothing apparently, but he-" Munch looked confused.

"What?" Fin asked.

"I don't know, I haven't spoken Hebrew this much since I was fourteen. Yiddish say it in Yiddish!" He pressed. The rabbi repeated himself in the other language.

" 'Blutik'? What the hell is blutik?" Elliot asked.

"It's Yiddish for blood. He's trying to tell us the pipes were bloody. Slow down! He says- they have security, video because they've had break-ins before." The Rabbi reached down to grab something from his briefcase. He pulled out a videotape and handed it to Fin with a large, toothy smile on his face.

0

"Only three of them are on camera, but they all keep looking back at this one spot and talking, so that's where Sanders probably is." Elliot said minutes later.

"How do you know the one that stays off camera is Sanders?" Cragen asked.

"None of these other three match the description of Sanders we got from the Rabbi. They're either bald or buzzed and according to the Rabbi, Sanders has a full head of sandy brown hair." Olivia replied.

"We already have their mug shots out to the news." Munch added as he walked in. "They all have priors for anti-Semitic and racial acts violence including one two blocks from where I used to live. They tried to burn down my old synagogue."

"What about sexual assault raps?"

"Nothing." The room fell silent for a few minutes as the detectives watched one of the skinheads, Frank Hammond, burn Torah scrolls in a decorative cabinet.

"Captain, there's a call for you." A uniform said. The Captain stood up, nodded, and turned back to his detectives.

"Okay- Elliot, Olivia, you look up Hammond and the other two. Munch, Fin, find this Sanders guy-" Fin opened his mouth to object, but Cragen cut him off- "Everybody has a file." The detectives began the search, but what seemed like hours later, the Captain was yet again calling them into his office. Munch and Fin were just about follow them, but they clicked the mouse one last time, with no hope or expectation, and saw the words "Richard Sanders en Re: An unborn child" flash across the screen.

"Detectives, care to join us?" The captain said irritably.

"I don't believe it- We've got him!" Fin yelled.

"Richard Sanders. He's 27 years old and last known address is Brooklyn, with his parents, divorced. Father deceased." Munch read aloud. The Captain, Olivia, and Elliot were already reading it over his shoulder.

"He filed a motion to stop his girlfriend from terminating her pregnancy. But the judge denied the claim because giving birth would have killed the mother." Fin said.

"Getting the abortion could save her life and he would rather she died? That's extreme."

"Remember that case last year? Some guy with a sniper rifle started knocking off abortion doctors, now _that's_ extreme." Elliot said.

"Captain? The family is here." An officer said, thumbing over his shoulder.

"What family?" Olivia asked.

"Show them into my office." The Captain said. He turned back to Olivia. "The Turners are here with information pertaining to the case. I got a call from the Governor this morning that they were coming in, I don't know anything yet." The four detectives exchanged looks and followed him to the office. The woman was holding onto to her husband and crying, and the two men looked desperate and panicked.

"Detectives, this is Mr. And Mrs. Turner and…" He trailed off as he pointed to the other man, younger than Mr. Turner but also his spitting image.

"This is our son Daniel." Mr. Turner said. Daniel Turner held out a hand and shook with the five SVU members.

"Do I know you from somewhere?" Elliot asked, holding onto his hand.

"Detective Turner, Robbery." He said, flashing his badge.

"Please have a seat. The Governor called to say you were coming…" The Captain said, sitting at his desk.

"His wife is a personal friend of Sarah's," he said gesturing to his wife.

"Sarah Rebecca Turner?" Munch asked. Mrs. Turner looked confused.

"Yes, how did you-?" But Munch was already walking back to his desk.

"Excuse him-what can we do for you?" Cragen asked.

"It's our daughter, Sarah. She's been kidnapped. Her best friend Tina is outside with her mother. She saw what happened," Captain Cragen motioned for Fin to interview the girl.

"Have you contacted Missing Persons?" He asked.

"They sent us to you."

"Did they say why?" This time Detective Turner answered.

"My sister was abducted by four men driving a black SUV, they all match the descriptions from the news. We're Jewish-Sarah's Jewish." He said desperately. The Detective rubbed his forehead to calm himself. "It's the same Modus Operandi of the other nine murders. She was abducted three hours ago, so she has maybe 45 hours left."

"You have to help our baby." Mrs. Turner pleaded, "She's only sixteen, she's just a little girl!"

"Mrs. Turner? Can I get you something to drink?" Munch had returned to the room. Mrs. Turner nodded and went out with him while Elliot, Olivia, and the Captain continued with the men.

"Mrs. Turner-"

"Please, call me Sarah." She said, taking the cup from him as he sat down across from her.

"Sarah. Your daughter is named after you?"

"Yes, and for my mother." Munch smiled and nodded.

"Sarah, I know this is gonna be hard for you, but time is running out for your daughter and this is very important." She nodded and sighed heavily. "Almost twenty years ago a Richard Sanders sued Sarah Rebecca Liebermann in order to keep her-you-from terminating your pregnancy. I need you to tell me what happened so we can find him." Sarah put her drink down and began wringing her hands painfully. Munch reached out and held them in his own to stop her.

"I was nineteen, we were going to get married. But there was a problem with the pregnancy. The fetus bonded with the placenta, I would have bled to death if I continued past 3 months."

"How did Sanders react after he lost the suit?"

"Richard was furious. He tried to appeal the decision but I got the abortion that day."

"That's when he became anti-Semitic?"

"Yes. He blamed my religion for allowing his baby to be killed at first, since Judaism allows abortions to help the mother, then he said he was glad I killed our child because it was a bastard!" She cried. "Oh G-d, what's he doing to my baby girl?"

"Mom, come on, let's get you home." Detective Turner said, lifting his mother from her seat and letting his father walk her back to the car.

"I talked to the girl, she I.D.'d all three suspects." Fin said upon his return.

"Uh, Captain, I'd like to stick around and help if that's okay." Detective Turner asked.

"What can you contribute?" Elliot asked. Turner pulled a picture out of his pocket and handed it to Elliot.

"That's Richard Sanders, I think that will be more helpful to you than a sketch. I just want to be there when you find Sarah and take these guys down."

"Elliot Stabler." Elliot said, reaching a hand out.

"I guess we could use the help, you're in kid." The Captain said, clapping him on the shoulder. "Now, let's find your little sister. Do we have last known addresses on the perps?"

"Yeah, it's funny too, they're all the same." Olivia said contemptuously.

"Alright, get a team together. Let's get this done today."

0

"Exercise extreme firing caution, the suspects are armed and they may have a hostage, female Caucasian fourteen years old." Captain Cragen said over the radio. "S.W.A.T gets eyes in there before anyone makes a move -- everyone holds until we have eyes."

"Ready when you are Captain." Elliot said, referring to the S.W.A.T. team.

"Go ahead." A few minutes passed and a voice came over the radio.

"We have eyes. Transmitting video feed."

"Okay, it looks like two perps. Which ones are they?" The Captain asked. Fin shuffled through the mug shots.

"Looks like Hammond and Anderson."

"Sergeant, do you see the hostage?"

"Stand by." Hours seemed to pass. "N-no. No sir, no hostage visible."

"Damn." The Captain whispered, looking behind him at Turner. "What about suspects three and four, do you have a read on them? Repeat, do you have three and four?"

"There are no others visible… Commencing infrared scan… Detect only two positive heat signals… I'm sorry Captain, she's not here." The S.W.A.T. guy said, but his apology was really for Detective Turner; the young man pounded a fist into the side of the surveillance truck.

"Okay, here's how this goes down." The Captain began over the radio. "The suspects are the only people that can tell us where Sarah is, so we have to take them alive. Surveillance, what's the status on weapons in the apartment?"

"I can see one visible shotgun and a suspicious pocket bulge. Nothing concrete."

"Fine, we fire only as a last resort, S.W.A.T team leader, go ahead." The sounds of shattering glass echoed between the buildings while the crunching screech of the metal door permeated the hallway and the elevator shaft and the empty apartments in the evacuated complex. Loud thumps followed by small explosions told the story of tear gas grenades, and the resounding shouts of "Clear!" signaled the Detectives to enter the apartment.

"Split them up, we're doing this right here." The Captain said. Hammond was dragged into the adjoining room and Anderson was cuffed to a rolling chair. Munch and Fin followed Hammond into the makeshift interrogation room, where he was handcuffed, quite uncomfortably, to the bars on the shattered window. This position had his arms pulled uncomfortably upward by the bars and his head and shoulders bent forward in a sort of forced bow. They left him there alone in this agonizing pose and rejoined Anderson and the other SVU detectives (and a handful of S.W.A.T. team members) for the interrogation.

"James Anderson, 24 years old, born right here in Brooklyn, parents deceased." Elliot read to the scornful looking man before them. "Sarah Turner. Where is she?" Anderson shot a look to the clock hanging on the wall, but didn't speak. Fin nodded understandingly and walked over to the clock.

"Can I borrow that?" He asked for an officer's baton. When he had it, he pounded it several times into the antique clock, knocking it to the floor. Fin then proceeded to break the digital clocks on both the microwave and the oven.

"You don't need to worry about the time kid, cuz we're not going anywhere until you tell us where your pals are with the girl." He said, narrowing his eyes. Anderson looked him up and down and smiled disgustingly.

"You cops are all a bunch of race traitors. But I guess it's not really your fault, he wouldn't be here without affirmative action." The man said, turning back to Elliot.

"_We're_ race traitors? Aren't you guys the ones getting in the sack with Jewish women?" This struck a nerve that began to pulsate in the side of Anderson's neck.

"I never touched those whores like that! Rick-" he stopped, knowing he had said too much.

"We found bits of cement in the back of one of your victims Jimmy, we know it was from a warehouse floor." Olivia said. Anderson didn't reply. The Captain sighed heavily.

"Bring the other one out here."

0

Several hours later, as the sun began to disappear behind Sears tower, the interrogation had gone nowhere. Both suspects, Anderson and Hammond, seemed completely loyal to their leader, Richard Sanders. But at least, as Munch had pointed out, they had not asked for lawyers.

"This is taking too long." Turner said, knocking the back of his head into the wall where he leaned. Elliot clapped him on the shoulder encouragingly.

"Don't worry, they're breaking. They say more every time we-"

"It's been almost 12 hours since Sarah went missing! What if he rapes her? She's just a little kid, I could never forgive myself…"

"You think this is your fault?" Munch asked, joining them in the hallway.

"I know it's my fault. I was supposed to pick Sarah up from Hebrew school, but I got caught up at work so I called her and I told her to walk home. If she gets hurt… This is taking too long." He repeated urgently.

"Agreed. So why don't we do something about it?" Fin said. The four detectives exchanged wary looks and made their way back into the room.

"Captain, you look like your gonna pass out, why don't you and Olivia take a coffee break, we'll keep at him." Munch suggested. The Captain eyed them suspiciously, but upon further deliberation, he nodded and left with Olivia. One of the S.W.A.T. members that had heard them in the hall closed the doors to the hallway and the room with the second suspect, nodding curtly to the detectives.

"Go ahead." Detective Turner went ahead.

"Wow wow wow! What the hell is he doing? Hey!" Anderson yelped in terror. Turner had just pulled out his gun and aimed it directly between the man's eyes.

"Where is she?" He said coldly. Anderson was too scared to speak.

"I should remind you that the man holding the gun to your head is Sarah's brother." Munch said.

"And he's a little irritated right now so you might want to answer the question." Fin added.

"This can't be legal, I'm gonna sue every last one of you for police brutality!" Anderson squealed. Elliot laughed aloud.

"Who's gonna believe you? You murdered nine women Jimmy, and the Captain's not in here."

"These guys aren't with you…" He retorted weakly, referring to the S.W.A.T. team.

"I don't remember any excessive use of force."

"Me neither."

"It was a routine, by the book, interrogation." Three of the S.W.A.T. guys said.

"You might want to reconsider answering that question Jimmy." James Anderson looked cross-eyed down the barrel of the gun in his face, but he still didn't open his mouth.

"Fine, you want to play this game? We know how to play too!" Turner said, nodding to Elliot. He and Fin grabbed the arms of the rolling chair and began rushing it toward the balcony; it didn't look stable after having ten armed S.W.A.T. guys come crashing through it.

"Wait! Wait!" Anderson cried. The detectives were lifting the chair and hanging it partially over the edge.

"Where is she damn it?" Elliot yelled.

"Okay! Okay! I'll tell you just take me back inside!"

"Tell us now Jimmy!" Jimmy began to blubber.

"They're in a warehouse on Dock 13 in the bay!"

0

"Are we all set up Captain?" Elliot asked, joining Cragen in the situation room.

"Yeah we're ready…Elliot, I have to ask this-"

"We never touched him, Captain." Cragen considered this for a moment and nodded.

"But you touched his chair is that right?" Elliot smiled nervously. "What do you call that?" Elliot thought for a moment.

"Reasonable deception?" They both laughed aloud.

"Captain. We've got one of the hostage-takers on the phone." The Captain nodded and lifted the phone to his ear.

0

"Enough!" The bald man yelled. Sarah stopped immediately in her attempt to dislodge her hands from the handcuffs. Her arms were behind her, chained around the metal banister of the factory's stairwell. She gasped slightly as the other man rubbed a thumb gently across the duct-tape on her mouth. He looked remarkably like her brother with his wavy brown hair (though Daniel's was black) and thin jaw.

"You look just like your mother…" Sarah pulled away as he laid a hand on the back of her neck. In response he pulled her closer to him and took in the smell of her perfume.

"Come on Rick! Just do her so we can get on with this!"

"Shut up Will." Rick's voice was deathly cold. He sighed heavily and took another deep breath as he un-cuffed the girl, brought her arms down in front of her, and re-cuffed them. Sarah struggled in his arms and cried out under the duct-tape as Rick forced her onto a pile of rotted blankets beneath the stairs. He left her there momentarily and walked away. She desperately wanted to get up and run, but she could only wait there, shaking uncontrollably.

Rick returned and tossed her over onto her stomach to tie a blindfold over her eyes. When he rolled her back over, it was gently, and he was careful to brush her dark hair out of her face. Behind her, a rusted hook stuck out of the cement. Rick had long since bent the hook over so that it became a loop; perfect for stringing Sarah's handcuffs through. With her eyes covered and her arms above her head, the girl was completely vulnerable; exactly how Rick wanted his final revenge. Though he had not breathed a word of it to his partners, Rick intended Sarah to be his last victim. Sarah senior had murdered his child, now he was going to murder hers.

"Please-" Sarah tried to plead from under the duct-tape.

"Shh…" He said, pushing her skirt up her waist and exploring her perfect thighs with his hand. "It'll all be over soon."

"Oh shit, Rick, we've got to go..."

"What?"

"Cops."

0

"How long have they been on the phone?" Fin asked. Detectives Turner, Stabler, Munch, and Tutuola were sitting behind a barricade in front of the warehouse, all their guns and eyes pointed at the door. Elliot checked his watch.

"Almost twenty minutes." He replied with a heavy sigh. "Turner, he said you're welcome in the bus at any time if you want to hear what's going on."

"Thanks." Turner replied. He lifted himself up and walked toward the van. Inside, Captain Cragen was rubbing his forehead painfully. The door closed before Munch saw any more.

"Are they negotiating world peace in there?" Munch asked, disgruntled with the time.

"It's taking long enough." Fin said. Elliot let loose a huge yawn.

"Give him time, the Captain knows what he's doing." A long pause followed this statement. The silence was broken by a crash. The door of the bus had just swung open and the Captain stepped out, looking distraught.

"All units prepare for entry." He said over the radio. "Hold until you get my order."

"What's going on Captain?" Elliot asked, getting to his feet.

"The two suspects were arguing about what to bargain for, one got angry, and the girl started crying in the background just before they hung up." He replied in one breath.

"Oh my God." Fin said when Elliot couldn't form the words.

"Sir, there's movement on the second floor, north side. Shots fired!" The voice rang out over all the radios. The two suspects were firing wildly into the air and to the ground, with some shots hitting the helicopter; the downward shots made their mark in the side of a surveillance van that had pulled closer to the warehouse door. A young officer jumped out of the van and ducked behind it for cover. But one of the shots coming down hit the officer in the shoulder, knocking him to the ground; the shots ceased almost immediately.

"Cease fire! Everybody hold! Don't move kid we're coming out to get you! Elliot-"

"I've got him Captain." Elliot tightened the straps of his bulletproof vest and moved military style across the open ground with his weapon drawn.

"Just stay put, I'm almost there. You're gonna be fine." Elliot said to the downed officer as he edged closer.

"Does anyone have visual on the suspects?" Cragen radioed. The only one that could have answered was Elliot; but as he arrived at the officer's side, Richard Sanders stepped out of the van, aiming a shotgun straight at his head.

"Drop it." Rick said. Elliot threw his gun aside and put his hands out. "Good. Now get his and lose the mag." Elliot pulled the wounded officer's gun out of its holster and dislodged the magazine before throwing it next to his own.

"Let's go man!" William Carter had a handgun jammed into the head of the van's other occupant.

"You carry him." Rick said, gesturing for Elliot to pick up the injured cop.

"Let me leave him here. If he dies while he's inside-"

"Pick him up now, or I'll shoot him too." He interrupted, pointing at the other officer. Elliot gently lifted the young man into his arms and followed Rick into the side door of the warehouse. Outside, Captain Cragen was still waiting for Elliot to return with his patient, but from the other side of the van, they had not seen him disappear inside.

"Captain! There's movement at the door!"

"Oh god-" Elliot's hands had been bound with his own handcuffs and Will Carter, the second suspect, was using him as a shield as he stepped out of the doorframe.

"Captain, they've got two uniforms in here! They want to talk…in person." Elliot added after Will prodded him in the back.

"I'll be right in." Elliot and Will disappeared back into the warehouse. The young man led his prisoner into the far back corner and tossed him into a wall, where he slid down into a sitting position. Across from him sat the two officers from the surveillance van; one had been cuffed to a stairs' hand rail, and his injured partner lay on the floor beside him, clutching his bleeding wound. These two, however, did not have Elliot's attention. Sarah Turner lay beneath the stairwell, her arms tied to a rusty nail above her head and her skirt pushed up around her waist, almost exposing her.

"Hey, can I talk to her?" Elliot asked Will Carter, who had been left alone to guard them.

"Why?"

"I need to make sure she's okay. If I don't, you won't be able to make a bargain with my Captain when he gets in here."

"She's fine." Carter replied nonchalantly.

"I have to hear it from her." The young skinhead looked disgustedly at Sarah and sighed.

"Fine."

"Thank you- Sarah?" The girl's head turned toward the voice. "Is the blindfold really necessary?" Will sounded disgruntled as he sighed yet again and pulled the blind fold down around Sarah's neck.

"I'm not taking the tape off, she can still nod." Will said. "Now hurry up or shut up." Elliot nodded and turned back to the girl. She had dry tear marks running down her cheeks and beads of sweat on her temple, but for that she looked none the worse for wear.

"Sarah, my name's Elliot. I'm a detective, I'm here to help you. Now I know it's hard, but I need to know this- did any of the four men that took you, did any of them rape you?" Sarah wanted to say 'almost', but she could only shake her head no. "Okay, that's good. Don't worry, you're gonna get out of here, everything's gonna be okay. Understand?" She nodded slightly, but his words didn't wipe away the fear in her eyes.

"Elliot, you okay?" Captain Cragen entered the warehouse accompanied by Rick.

"Peachy, he's been shot." He gestured with his head at the bleeding man on the floor. Cragen nodded and looked back at Rick.

"Alright. If we're gonna talk at all, I need to walk out of here with my injured officer." Rick nodded in an business-like way. He and the Captain were so similar in age and stature that Elliot was almost irritated by their simultaneous presence.

"You can have him, but in exchange I want blankets and food."

"It's a deal."

"I'm not done." Rick's cold voice retorted. "I'll also let him go (he indicated Elliot) but you have to turn the electricity back on."

"No way Captain, I'm not leaving the girl." This put the Captain in an awkward position, but as he looked at Elliot carefully, he realized the motive. His detective had a radio attached to his belt, but it was only noticeable by the transparent earphone dangling, just barely visible, from his shirt collar.

"Let me take those two, and the Detective can stay here. He can be our go between, but I have to leave someone here with Sarah." Rick didn't look pleased. He looked sideways at the child for a moment, and she stared back up at him with defiant eyes. Though he did not let the others see it, this amused Rick; amused him enough to make the Captain's deal more appealing.

"Fine, take them and go."

0

"Yes!" Munch said under his breath. Applause drowned out his voice as the Captain and the two officers walked out of the warehouse.

"Captain, where's Elliot?" Olivia called from behind a barricade. The Captain had no time to respond. He jogged over to the van and grabbed a microphone.

"All units listen up. We are to maintain radio silence indefinitely, we have ears on the inside." These words were mere whispers when they escaped the ear-bud hanging from Elliot's shirt pocket; so quiet that neither Rick nor Will were aware of the orders. Elliot shifted slightly in his seat when he heard the sound, mostly because he could not understand the words. But hearing the Captain's voice was enough, he thought.

"What the hell do we do now Rick? This was your idea-"

"Shut up and let me think!"

"No Rick, I don't want to get killed-"

"Damn it, I told you to shut your mouth!"

"We should just give up now-"

"That's right, talk him down for us…" The Captain whispered, staring at the radio.

"We shot a cop William, we can't _just give up_."

"But Rick, you let them go, that's got to count for something-"

"It doesn't matter Will, now shut up!"

"No Rick. I'm done." Will said feebly.

"You're done?" Rick said in his coldest, deadest voice yet. "Fine, we're done." Through the radio, the Captain could hear the sound of a gun being cocked. But it was Elliot's terrified voice that next exploded from the radios.

"Hey, hey wait!" The sound of two gunshots silenced him. Sarah's resounding scream echoed over the hundred radios outside the warehouse, bouncing against the trees and disappearing somewhere between the police helmets.

0

In her mind, Olivia drew her gun and rushed toward the warehouse, but her body knew better. Sarah's muffled sobbing was the only sound coming from the warehouse, but it seemed to be drowned out by the officer's heavy breathing and the heartbeats that accompanied it. The only movement was near the front corner of the warehouse, where Detectives Tutuola and Munch were edging closer to the door.

"Can you see anything?" Fin asked in barely more than a whisper. Munch stood up to look in a dirty window, but could see nothing beyond the dried muck. He shook his head slowly, squinting painfully in an attempt to see his friend, who could well be dead. But suddenly, a sound filled the radio waves that brought a heavy sigh of relief from all the warehouse's observers.

"Rick, you just killed your partner…" Elliot's shaken voice said. It seemed detached, separate from the Elliot Stabler they knew. That's what happens when you watch someone die, the Captain thought.

"He was just a pawn." Rick replied, sounding amused. "Now do you have anything you want to tell me Detective Stabler?" Oh God, he knows about the radio; the thought hung in the air like a moldy smell.

"No-"  
"Don't lie to me!" Rick screamed. In seconds, Rick had torn the radio off of Elliot's belt. With the radio still dangling in his hand, he went for Sarah, pulling her to her feet, with the rusty nail still attached to her cuffs.

"Rick, don't do this, just put her down!" Elliot said in his shaking negotiation voice, but Rick was already heading for the door.

"Is this what you want?" Rick kicked open the door and screamed at the police, throwing the radio at them. "Do you want her dead?" Munch and Fin had to dog pile Detective Turner to keep him from running to his sister's aide. Her hands were still bound, and Rick was holding her against his chest with the cuffs. The girl did not look scared, only concentrated. Her eyes were closed and her brow ruffled in the effort to keep her breathing normal and stop her violent shaking.

"I swear, any more of that (he gestured fiercely at the radio) and I'll kill them both." Detective Munch, who was closest to the pair, watched unblinkingly as Rick slowly stepped back into the warehouse.

"Wait!"

"John don't!" The Captain called, but it was too late. Munch had jumped out from behind the barricade and was slowly edging toward Rick.

"Back off! You think I have a problem killing a Jew?" Rick yelled.

"Okay, calm down, look."

"Oh man, don't-" Fin started to say. Munch already had his gun out and was dropping the magazine.

"See? I'm unarmed, now let's talk Rick-"

"Screw you! Back the fuck off!"

"Let her go, take me instead." A deafening silence fell over the warehouse clearing. Even the nearby waves of the bay seemed to take a deep breath and hold it in support of the stillness. Rick, for once, didn't know how to react. He tried to speak but at the same time he tried to inhale and step back into the warehouse. These movements combined made him squeak slightly in his throat and tighten his grasp painfully around Sarah. She didn't flinch.

"What? Rick breathed. Munch was ready with the answer.

"I know why you killed those women Rick. I know why you chose Sarah, and I know why you saved her for last."

"You don't know anything, you're one of them! A filthy, worthless-"

"Sarah Liebermann, Rick." Munch interrupted. Rick remained silent, his eyes darting about on the Detective's face. "You didn't always hate Jews Rick. You didn't even think twice about it until you met Sarah."

"That's bull!"

"She killed your child Rick, are you telling me that didn't piss you off?"

"No! I'm glad she killed the little half-breed bastard-"

"Then why did you go after her daughter? You planned it Rick, you did it for revenge against the woman who killed your son!"

"You're wrong. She's just another filthy Jew! You're all the same-"

"Then prove it!" Rick looked confused. "If all Jews are the same, let the girl go and take me instead." He repeated unwaveringly with another step forward. Rick had no words to answer with. His brain went into a frenzy, wondering and plotting and despairing with no immediate solutions.

"No. No way. This little slut's worth more to them, they'll bargain for her."

"I'm a cop Rick. Everybody out here is a cop, they're like my own family, what's that worth?" Rick was hurting. He desperately wanted to kill the girl in his arms, he wanted his revenge. But he hadn't planned on dying; in fact, death and judgment were his worse fears. The whispers of Detective Munch's fellow officers were now floating about the clearing and echoing off of the nearby waves, giving fuel to the terrible feeling of apprehension.

At this point, the trio was standing several feet inside the second door of the warehouse. There was the first set of doors, with a long bar that fell across them to lock them from the inside, though now they hung open. Beyond these was a small coatroom now barren but once full of lab coats. The coatroom and the main part of the warehouse were separated by swinging double doors, one of which was missing and the other of which was close to falling off it's hinges; it was held up by the thin strip of metal lining the cement floor under the doorway.

"Fine." He had made his decision. Munch stepped forward into the doorways, gesturing for Sarah to step out. Rick shoved the girl away and in a single fluid movement Munch pushed her behind him. The Detective stepped forward again, this time his chest collided gently with the barrel of Rick's gun.

From several tens of yards away, Elliot watched in breathless anticipation as his friend stood before a bigoted murderer. If Rick's hatred kicked in now, John Munch would be no more. No one moved but Sarah, who was edging back towards the broken swinging doors with her eyes darting between Munch and Elliot. Though the latter could not tell what, he saw from the look in her eyes that Sarah was thinking and plotting ferociously behind the duct tape gag.

"Ok Rick, what now?" Munch asked disdainfully, as he usually sounded when he was nervous. He did not know that Sarah was still behind him leaning against the doorway, plotting in her mind some way to help the two men responsible for rescuing her. She couldn't leave now, not after what they had done for her.

The first Detective, Stabler, Rick had called him, had refused outright to leave her behind even when he could have walked to safety with his captain. The second, who another officer had called John, would likely be giving his life for her this very second if she did nothing; they were sacrificing their lives for hers, what her brother Daniel called the most honorable act of humankind, and she could not stand by while these two brave men died for her.

"Drop everything on your belt." Rick ordered. Munch dropped his handcuffs, their attached keys, and his radio. Simultaneously, Sarah made to move slowly out of the door, and she made sure Rick saw her turn to leave; her bluff succeeded.

"Now, walk." Rick said. He edged around Detective Munch so that his own back was facing Sarah and Munch was facing his captor and walking backwards toward where Elliot was handcuffed to a pipe in the floor.

Neither one of the Detectives remembered seeing movement, but seconds after Rick had spoken, he was crying out in pain. With the foot long, rusted nail that was wrapped around her handcuffs, Sarah had stabbed Rick under his right arm, the same arm in which he held his gun. The weapon clattered to the ground, and when Rick followed it, he drug Sarah down with him. The nail was so long that it was stuck in the man's side.

Detective Munch was on top of Rick in seconds; he freed the nail, thereby freeing Sarah's handcuffs, and the two began to wrestle for control of the gun, beating and choking each other in the process. Sarah was quick. She grabbed the keys that Munch had dropped and ran towards Elliot, sliding baseball style to a stop and freeing him from his restraints.

"Yes! Good, good, good." He said as she fiddled with the cuffs. When he was free, he pushed Sarah behind an old file cabinet and ran to aide his fellow officer, shouting, "Stay here!" a command Sarah obeyed without pause.

The fight for the gun was still raging. Detective Munch, though both older and smaller than Rick, was fairing well. They were rolling toward the gun when Elliot arrived, and he kicked out of Rick's hand just in time. When he dove for it himself, Rick grabbed his foot, knocking him to the ground as well, then Elliot remembered Rick's second gun, his own ankle-gun that had been taken from him. It seemed like that gun flew to Rick's hand just as Elliot thought of it, but it was too late.

"John, move!" Elliot yelled. Munch rolled off of Rick and someone pulled a trigger.

0

Sarah clapped her hands over her ears when she heard the gun shot, protecting them from the reverberation off the walls of the warehouse. Seconds later, hurried footsteps were echoing towards the file cabinet. She was afraid to move. What if it was Rick coming around the corner with a smoking gun?

"It's okay! It's okay Sarah, you're safe now…" Munch said; the girl had gasped and recoiled when he came around the side of the file cabinet.

"It's all clear! Both suspects are down!" They heard Elliot call over Munch's radio. Detective Munch gently pulled the tape off of Sarah's mouth and she spit out the handkerchief meant to gag her while he reached for the handcuff keys. It was only then that she realized he had been shot in the arm.

"You're hurt." She said breathlessly.

"It'll be fine. That was some stunt you pulled back there. Are you okay?" Munch asked as he pulled the cuffs off. She only nodded. At the same time, she reached out for him and pulled him into a tight embrace, tears falling from her eyes. He was surprised at first and slightly in pain from both his arm and the several ribs Rick had broken, but he held her too, for a moment, lifting them both to a standing position.

"Sarah," Elliot said as he walked in toward them. "Detective Munch here has to get to the paramedics so they can fix his arm. But your brother's outside, let's go see him." Detective Munch didn't have to get anywhere, the paramedics came to him as the second the three had reached the door. It was likewise with Sarah; she had barely stepped outside when Detective Turner slammed into her and was running his fingers through her hair, shaking her and kissing her with joy and relief. At this, several tens of officers burst into applause.

"Are you crazy-" Fin began to say as Munch was being rolled away on a stretcher. "He shot you? I'm gonna kill him!" This made Munch laugh painfully.

"That's a nice thought partner, but he's already dead, Elliot beat you to it."

"Oh, right. Can I ride along Captain?" He asked.

"Go ahead. How's that arm doing?" The Captain asked a paramedic.

"He'll have to have surgery to remove the bullet and he'll need to wear a sling for a few weeks, and try not to get shot again…"

"I don't know whether to fire you or put you on the list for a medal John." The Captain joked, ignoring the paramedic's second comment. "What do you think?" Munch thought for a moment.

"Could you ask me after I get out of surgery?" Nearby, Olivia was helping Elliot into the back of an ambulance. Rick had twisted his ankle when he grabbed him, and the fall to the ground had broken his rib.

"He had the gun pointed at me, but at the last second he turned it on Carter." Elliot was telling her.

"I thought I lost you for a second there. We all did."

"For a second there, you almost did." More applause erupted around them as the Chief of Detectives led Mr. and Mrs. Turner to their shaken, but nonetheless unharmed, children.

"Give us your poor, your tired, your huddled masses." Munch thought aloud as he watched them.

"What?" Fin asked.

"Nothing, I'm just glad we're here."

"Here as in where?" Munch smiled.

"Here."


End file.
